


Aftermath

by kmi85



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21520288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmi85/pseuds/kmi85
Summary: Life is as good as it can be for two people whose friendship is based on lies and manslaughter.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 28
Kudos: 186





	1. Chapter 1

_Now we are even…_

Except, there hadn’t been any ill intent. Steve was dead – by her hand. Ted was dead – killed by Judy and Steve. Fucking Steve. Steve who is – _was -_ a fucking asshole who fucking deserved to die for being such a shithead. Steve who has _– had –_ such control over Judy, who fucking stopped Judy from doing the right thing; who was responsible for her kids’ father dying a slow and painful death on the side of the road like an animal to be found as roadkill. Steve who fucking ruined everything, who had to get himself shot by her by her fucking pool, feet away from where her kids are asleep and shit!

The kids!

Fuck! Charlie was probably awake – fucking teenagers!

Her phone is against her ear without her realizing and she’s uttering words that are not registering.

Her voice is calm and steady – so unlike what she feels at the moment, because she is freaking out but her body is taking over and soon her hand hangs by her side clutching her phone like a lifeline. She considers going upstairs to check on the kids but when no one comes rushing out and no lights are turning on upstairs, and no curtains are being drawn to the sides – she decides against it. Henry is most definitely asleep, and Charlie is either asleep or gaming with his ridiculously expensive headphones on that Lorna got him.

She takes a deep breath.

The kids are fine.

She can’t remember how loud the shot had been – had it been loud at all? She looks around and listens. There are no sirens wailing in the distance, no flashing lights, no nosey neighbours coming out of their houses in their bathrobes, no lights turning on. She spots her newly installed security system and freaks out. Is the security company monitoring all of this? Fuck! Is she going to go to jail and leave her kids in the care of fucking Lorna? Fuck! She will never see them again and –

She takes a deep breath.

It was self-defence.

She takes a deeper breath and attempts to center herself, and remembers the cameras are not working yet.

Her right hand is numb and heavy, and she looks down and realizes she is still holding the gun. The gun with which she shot shithead Steve. She puts the gun back in her robe’s pocket, looks down at her phone and unlocks it. She placed a call eight minutes ago. She called Judy.

Fucking Judy.

Eight minutes plus however long it passed before she called Judy. Eight minutes and still no cops, no blaring sirens, no one. No one except for her and the floating body of Steve.

She needs a stiff drink.

She feels… strangely numb and about to combust from whatever the fuck she is feeling, and she hates it. She’s frozen. _Ten minutes_ and Steve keeps floating and bleeding out in her pool. How rude. Of course. Of course he has to ruin her pool as well, specially when money is tight – and why the fuck is she even thinking about that? Is she that shallow? Is she going all dissociative? And where the fuck is Judy? And why did she call the one person in her circle who doesn’t own a car – oh, wait, at least not after running over Ted. It could take Judy at least a fucking half an hour from whatever the fuck she fucked off to.

 _Twelve minutes_ and she is still not in handcuffs; her kids are not being dragged out of their beds; and she is still standing there staring at the pool.

She can’t stop staring. The pool is turning purple, red, pink… and Steve is still floating, and she can’t seem to wake up and god, why can’t she seem to wake up? She looks to her left – the lights upstairs are still off, there is no movement inside the house. The neighbouring houses are dark.

It is still just her and Steve.

She hears a rustle coming from behind and suddenly Judy is standing next to her - mouth agape. _Now we are even_ goes through her mind again. And it makes her feel disgusting. It makes her feel sick because that is not what she had intended. At least she thinks she hadn’t - no, she knows she hadn’t. Judy looks at her with her big puppy eyes and together they turn their eyes to where he is. His body. His corpse - and god she sounds like that morbid kid. And Jen thinks again - Why did she call Judy? Why when she could so easily turn her in? But Jen knows, knows in her heart, Judy would not do that. Plus it was self-defence. And so they stand there, each immersed in thought and Steve just keeps floating there.

  
“What do you need me to do?”

  
Those big brown eyes are looking at her and Jen just cannot for the life of her comprehend this woman. Judy, who is always so quick to give and who could care less about taking, who doesn’t expect to get anything in return. Judy, whose ex-fiancé, a man whom she loved for years and with whom she tried to start a family, is floating dead in Jen’s pool and all she can think of saying is _“What do you need me to do?”_ And Jen doesn’t know whether she wants to yell at her, slap her, push her into the pool, or just - god, why does Judy have to complicate everything and why does she have to be the way she is? Jen wishes she could tell her, “this is how you fucking make it up to me. This is how you finally go to jail.” But she can’t because she is still broken hearted about the truth behind Ted’s death but this woman standing next to her kept her from falling apart more times that she’d like to admit. She kept her family together and she offered respite from all the shit that came with Ted’s death. She just can’t hate her as much as she’d like to. Because Judy just burrowed into her life and her kids’ heart like a fucking tick and as much as Jen would like to hate her - she realizes she can’t. She’ll yell and she’ll tear her apart and show her how angry she is and go ape on her but Jen knows she’ll tear herself up as well in the process before she can hate her.

***

The cops arrive 8 minutes after they placed the call. Jen cannot remember if it was her or Judy who placed it. All she knows is that she told Judy she needed her by her side and that meant both of them not going to jail. She’s still in a daze but instinct takes over. She knows she told Judy what she needed her to say but she can’t remember what it was. It’s when she is at the station going over her statement for the third time that she can finally hear her own voice. She tells the detectives the truth - that Steve had come looking for Judy and that he was angry at her for turning him in; that he had been drinking - that they were sharing a drink when he slipped up and told her he had run her husband over. She tells them he got violent and that when he went to grab her, she shot him. She explains that she started having the gun within reach when Judy told her she suspected it had been Steve who had ran Ted over and that she kicked her out and didn’t want her around her house; specially after she told the police about her suspicions and the police did nothing. But then they ask her why had Judy been at her place that night. Jen says that she called her when Steve was overstaying his welcome and asked her to come over. Jen makes sure to let them know how controlling with Judy he was and how much of an asshole he was. She remembers then that she told Judy to pin it all on him - that she wasn’t sure until a few days ago and that she was wracked with guilt and decided to confess to a crime she didn’t commit in an attempt to make it up to the family she had gotten close to. Jen knows Judy can sell the tortured-guilt angle very well because that’s how the woman truly feels. Jen just hopes Judy doesn’t slip up and that she corroborates her story because she won’t be able to do this alone.

***

In the end, neither of them serves any time. Judy isn’t charged with obstructing justice or for providing a false confession - her saving grace had been turning in Scott when she did, providing the feds with information they had been looking for years. As for the boys, Jen decides to tell them as little as possible. That night before the police arrives, she decides then and there that they would never know about Judy’s involvement. They could never know. It would break them - Henry more than Charlie, and she could not do that to her little boy when he absolutely adored Judy. She couldn’t fuck Charlie up either more than she already had.

Charlie is understandably angry and suspicious of Judy but Jen thinks Judy’s earnest expression wins him over. There is never a trial, and Jen is the one feeding the kids information. All they know is that the hit and run driver had been identified, and that it happened to be Judy’s emotionally abusive asshole of an ex-fiancé who laundered money for the Greeks. All they know is that he was a criminal that was getting away with shit and that he tried to hurt Jen and had hurt Judy over the years, and that Jen shot him in self defense. Henry, her precious boy, doesn’t stop hugging Jen and Judy, grateful to have them in his life, and he tells Judy, “I’m sorry he was a bad man and that he hurt you.” And Charlie, who seems to have inherited her anger, glares at Judy and says nasty, hurtful things because he can’t believe she didn’t know; he can’t believe it was happenstance that she came into their lives. And Jen sometimes lets him because if he knew the truth he would never forgive either of them, and he is well within his rights but sometimes she steps in an redirects his anger towards her because Judy, who doesn’t have to stand there and take it, is completely devastated and destroyed every single time Charlie goes off and Jen can’t stand it.

When Lorna does it, that’s another story altogether. With the tension at home, she lets the boys spend more time with the she-devil of a grandmother they have than she would have liked to because it both serves to calm Charlie down, and rile him up. She makes sure Judy is not around whenever Lorna drops the kids off and a day or two after that depending on Charlie’s mood.  
  
A year goes by and Charlie’s anger seems to have simmered down - now his anger and angst is typical teenager shit. He warms up to Judy again seven months after the whole fiasco, even if just a smidge at first, Jen counts that as a victory. Now, Charlie greets Judy as he greets everybody, glares at her like he glares at everyone else, and smiles and laughs with her when he is not busy being a little shit. A year goes by and Jen asks Judy to move back into the guest house - might as well since Judy spends all her waking hours at Jen’s when she’s not at work. Henry is predictably delighted when Jen tells them Judy is moving in, Charlie makes no comment, just shrugs and says, “Cool. Can we have pizza?” And Jen - to be honest she doesn’t know what compelled her to ask. She just knows it has been feeling weird for months seeing Judy leave through the front door at the end of the day, and it feels weird coming home at the end of the day when the kids are with Lorna to an empty house. And it feels weird when she comes back from work and it is just her and the boys because not only can she feel Ted’s absence but Judy’s as well. And her anger has also simmered down, and it just makes sense for Judy to move back in.

Still, the proposal spews out of Jen’s mouth unexpectedly and very nonchalantly one night when they are all having Judy’s made from scratch vegetarian lasagna that even Charlie loves. And Henry’s exuberant “please, Judy please!” jars Jen from the daze she succumbed to, to realize what she had just asked. She looks at Judy as if she didn’t just surprise the shit out of herself and takes sip (more of a gulp) of her white wine and raises her eyebrow at her, and Judy can only stare back with the most perplexed look she’s ever seen. And thank god that Jen’s brain works weirdly because the next thing she knows she is asking Henry about his upcoming recital to redirect the conversation and change the topic without breaking a sweat. God, she’s starting to think she’s a sociopath. The last thing her kids need is a mother with split personality disorder or whatever the medical term is.

A week goes by where they both avoid talking about it altogether, skirting around the subject whenever Henry asks when Judy is moving-in. On the ninth day, while sharing a bottle of wine while making lunch (because money is still tight but she’ll allow for - and enjoy - some luxuries, damn it) Judy brings it up and Jen realizes that she could just say, “forget it, I didn’t really mean it,” or something along those lines but when Judy asks her whether she meant it, whether she was joking, Jen shrugs and says she wasn’t and that the offer still stands. Jen continues dicing the tomatoes and she thinks she hears a sniffle coming from Judy but she doesn’t turn to look at her. Before Judy heads home that night, she tells her she would love to move back in if that is what Jen truly wants.

***  
  
Eight months after that, their friendship is still fucked up but somehow they work. Somehow they make sense. Judy lives at the guest house, which Lorna continuously throws a fit about, and the kids still love having Judy around and life is as good as it can be for two people whose friendship is based on lies and manslaughter. They find a nice routine that works for all four of them. When Jen can’t make it to one of the boys’ parent-teacher meetings or maybe one of Henry’s presentations, Judy goes in her stead and the kids don’t seem to mind. If anything, Charlie prefers when it is Judy that goes to the parent-teacher nights because he gets to get away with shit since Judy tends to sugar-coat things for her when she’s debriefing her. Of course, Jen knows what she is doing and calls her out on it but Charlie – the little shit - seems to notice it softens up the blow.

It is a sunny Wednesday afternoon when she’s walking towards Henry’s classroom that she hears Henry introduce Judy to a new friend as his mom’s girlfriend. Jen wants to die. Her fucking heel gets caught in the concrete and she stumbles and drops her keys and she looks around thanking nobody seems to have noticed her and when she looks up towards her son she sees Judy putting a fish to shame and stumbling over her words trying to gently correct Henry but the words don’t seem to come out and Henry and his friend are already scampering away. Jen takes a deep breath and leans against a nearby column and curses.  
  
On the ride back home and later that night, Judy doesn’t mention anything, and Jen pretends she didn’t hear anything.  
  
Over the next few months it comes to her attention that Henry has been introducing and referring to Judy as her girlfriend, and she realizes she cannot ignore that. She sits him down and they have a talk about how Judy is most definitely her girlfriend, and Henry asks, “Why not? You love her and she loves you,” and Jen just about dies and just repeats that they are not in a relationship.

***  
  
Two and a half years since that fateful night when everything changed - and whenever Judy goes to the guesthouse for the night, it feels weird. Jen doesn’t know why but it feels weird. Things are definitely so much better now. Judy still paints and still works at the retirement home, and she’s even managed to sell her paintings for a very pretty penny. Her paintings have changed, she paints more than little girls and now the little girls are not hollow on the inside, but they are happy. And Jen is actually doing very well - she is kicking Lorna’s ass and she couldn’t be happier about it, and the money coming in every month is more than enough for them to keep the house, pay the bills and enjoy the one or three luxuries every now and then. It certainly helps that now it is two-income home and that Judy’s paintings sell for so much when they do. They still have Steve’s cheque somewhere. They decided that it would only be used in an emergency and rather, it would go for the kids’ college fund (and Jen prays they both decide to go to college- Charlie, almost seventeen now, still seems on the fence and it worries her). They have a system going and it works great for them so Jen can’t understand why it feels so weird when Judy heads back to the guesthouse. She had offered Judy the guest room in the main house about three months back but Judy had declined, saying that it felt like too much, like she was invading to much, imposing, and try as she might, she could not convince Judy otherwise, that she was welcomed and that this was also her home.

Jen pretends it doesn’t hurt.

She also becomes very aware of the little things, the little touches that kill her slowly. Jen has never been a very touchy person and she is amazed since meeting Judy how touchy she has been with her and how comfortable she is with that when she had never been like that from the get-go with anyone. She realizes one day when they are watching some ridiculous school play Henry insisted on being in, when she has her arm resting lazily on Judy’s chair, grazing her shoulder and hanging limply mid forearm, and Judy very studiously watching the play and awing, interlinks their hands and rubs Jen’s back of the hand on autopilot that there had been many moments like that. Many moments in which they were suddenly touching without conscious thought. Needless to say, Jen doesn’t pay attention to the play after that. Not that she was really paying attention before.

And now Jen realizes why it feels so weird when Judy leaves and fuck, it throws her in for a loop because of course she has to develop those feelings for Judy because why the fuck not? She shouldn’t be surprised at this point in time at the turns her life takes. Jen is a wreck after that. Now, she fucking blushes, and stutters and overanalyzes everything and maybe she blushed before and maybe she stumbled over her words before and she was awkward but at least she didn’t know about it. Now, god now she feels miserable - like a fucking teenager - feels awkward all the time because one night as Chris so bluntly and mercilessly points out, she has been dating a woman for almost three and a half years, and okay, barring the blunder that first year and a half, she’s been dating a woman for almost two years and she hadn’t fucking noticed. Christopher kindly tells her they pulled an Uhaul and still they both fucking don’t know they’ve been dating for the better part of their _friendship_. And the fucker fucking uses bunny quotes with the word friendship. She curses at him and leaves in her terrifying fury and when she gets to her car, she drives it to a park and blasts her Metal and curses because the little fucker is sort of right. Neither of them has tried to date anyone, they just stuck to their routine. It was a given that at the end of the day they would go back home to each other, to their little family. And fuck, fuck! The days after he drops that bombshell on her is that she starts noticing the little things which in retrospect are not so little.  
  
Whenever they pass each other in the hall or when they move around each other in the kitchen, they are always touching; a hand to the small of the back, a squeeze on the shoulder, pinkies interlocking for a few precious seconds, two hands on the waist guiding the other one forward, backward, sideways. When they watch tv or when they are simply chatting on the couch at the end of the day there’s always a hand on her lap that is not hers and somehow they always end up holding hands or she ends up massaging Judy’s palms, fingers and hands that ache from holding a paintbrush for so long. Whenever the are near each other, there’s always at least one point of contact and Jen thinks it is disgusting since when the fuck did she constantly need to be touching someone?  
  
One night, the four of them are watching blockbusters from the 90’s and when Charlie get’s up and nudges Henry awake and they both head off to bed - she turns to find Judy all snuggled up to her and fast asleep and she thinks how it has happened several times and the boys have never made a comment. She thinks back to Henry calling Judy her girlfriend a few months back and she wants to kick herself because of course her kid was confused, of course he thought they were an item if this was the sort of things he had been seeing daily, and of course her prepubescent son figured it out before her.

Although - they really aren’t dating but they kind of are? Why does everything have to be so complicated with Judy?

Except things were also so very uncomplicated with her, so superbly easy and comfortable.

Jen considers pretending to also have fallen asleep and spend the night there with Judy but fuck that, she is a grown woman and she is in her forties and her neck and back would not forgive such transgression so she gently wakes Judy up and says, “let’s go to bed,” and when Judy sleepily shuffles towards the back door, Jen grabs her by the hand and leads her upstairs and suddenly Judy is wide awake. In her room, Jen heads towards the bathroom, turns on the light, grabs an extra toothbrush, hands it to Judy and sets about getting ready for bed. A few minutes go by before Judy follows her lead and suddenly, they both have clean teeth, fresh breath and a bed all to themselves. Jen avoids eye contact, mentally kicking herself for not thinking this through, and thanks herself for not turning on the bedroom’s lights. Jen makes sure she lies on Ted’s side of the bed and pats her side expectantly. Judy shuffles awkwardly before climbing into bed and Jen curses herself for her lack of foresight. Of course Judy must feel awkward not only because of the situation they find themselves in right now but because this was the room Jen used to share with Ted, the room where Ted used to sleep in and where they had sex and fought and shared many happy and many sad moments in. She had gotten rid of the bed and the mattress about a year ago and overall redecorated her room, and she thinks that must have at least count for something since Judy isn’t crawling up the walls or hyperventilating. She can feel how stiff Judy is next to her and although her eyes have not adjusted to the dark yet, she knows other woman is staring blankly at the ceiling probably freaking out and waiting for Jen to fall asleep so she can run to her room. Jen freaks out herself because she doesn’t know what to do to calm Judy’s nerves. She thinks about reaching out and holding Judy’s hand but it feels like it would be too jarring. She also thinks of maybe apologizing and giving the other woman an out but it’s raining outside and Jen selfishly wants Judy by her side tonight so that is not an option and god, she is gonna drive herself crazy with all this indecision and uncertainty.  
  
“Tell me about Abe,” she whispers into the night and little by little she hears Judy’s apprehension slip away, passion and fondness quickly take over and suddenly is not so awkward anymore and they are both chuckling at Abe’s antics and suddenly it is the next day and Judy is cuddled up to her, her cold nose pressing up against her neck, and Jen thinks she would like to wake up to this more often even though she is not a cuddler.

***  
  
They first kiss out of nowhere in the most innocuous of ways. It’s probably a month after that night in Jen’s room and they are at the beach with the boys enjoying the sunshine and the cooling breeze. The women are watching the boys play in the water, laughing at the kids, and Jen makes a comment about a man down the beach that has them both cracking up and they both turn to each other at the same time, still laughing and smiling, and their lips meet in a quick peck and they both continue laughing and it seems to take them both more than a few seconds to register what just happened. Jen stills, smiles sheepishly when they finally make eye contact again and looks down embarrassed. She hears Judy chuckle beside her and when she looks up confused, Judy smiles, leans in and kisses her cheek.

“You are blushing,” she says.

Jen rolls her eyes. “Thanks for pointing that out, you ass.”

Judy chuckles again, grabs a hold of Jen’s hand and looking into her eyes she places a kiss on her knuckles, “I think it is kinda cute.”

Jen absolutely takes offense and as she indignantly lists off the reasons as to why she is most definitely not cute, Judy cuts her off with a kiss to her lips and Jen forgets what she was trying to say and instead kisses the other woman properly.

She thinks she hears, “gross!” and “finally!” coming from her kids and she gives them – mostly Charlie – the finger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments :)

In the quiet night – the silence is deafening. Everything is loud and too bright, and it is too hot and too cold, and there are moving shadows everywhere and the water _laps, laps, laps_ against the lip of the pool and –

Nothing makes sense. Nothing makes sense except Jen and _he_ keeps on floating and floating as his blood ebbs away from him. Despite the noise in her head Judy knows one thing for certain: she’ll do whatever Jen needs her to do, whatever that may entitle.

***

It seems unreal that six moths later she is still not in prison and that Jen occasionally asks for her help with the boys. Jen is throwing herself into work to numb herself, and Judy is ever attentive in case Jen needs her whenever she eventually falls apart. Charlie abhors her and Judy knows she deserves it, but it never stops hurting when he looks at her the way he does; when he says the things he does. It hurts more when all Henry ever does is shower her with love. She would prefer both of them hating her. She would prefer Jen hating her and treating her the same way Charlie does instead of having her linger around like a lost soul. She thinks it must be the other woman’s idea of hell for her and she accepts it, even if it hurts so much.

Things are tense with Jen. Beyond tense. They don’t interact at all except when the boys are around and even then, it is only for Henry’s benefit. Jen never calls her; she just texts her. She never makes eyes contact, and when she is not glaring at her, she makes eyes contact for less than a second. It is enough to communicate her disdain for her.

They haven’t spoken about anything that went down and it is killing Judy because she knows they can’t leave things unspoken – even if Jen banishes her for good, they need to talk through the plethora of issues plaguing their decayed relationship.

***

Another month goes by and Jen asks her to stay for dinner for the first time since that night.

The following three weeks follow the same routine until officially once per week Judy helps with and stays for dinner. From then on, they interact a bit more; Jen holds her gaze for longer than a few seconds, engages in conversation with her at dinner and makes small talk while cleaning up.

It is on one of those nights that Jen asks her to stay and watch a movie with them. Long after the boys have retired for the night, and the house is quite except for the T.V., Jen offers her more wine and lowers down the volume.

“You are only here because of Henry.” She starts, “Because you made us- made him love you and he can’t lose someone else in the span of a year. I won’t let you fuck up my kids. They can’t know about you Judy. I need you to promise me that you won’t keep anything from me; a hundred percent honesty from now on. I just – why did you listen to him? Why didn’t you-“ Jen sighs and shakes her head. “Forget that. I know you would have done the right thing if Steve hadn’t had such hold over you – I know that. That is all I need to know and the real reason why I’m allowing you anywhere near us. But it doesn’t change anything Judy, and it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Jen stops, takes a deep breath, and turns to look at her. “Why are you the way you are? Why couldn’t you just leave it alone, leave _us_ alone, and not get involved?” She shakes her head again and rolls her eyes before taking a sip. “I swear you make the most fucked up decisions. Why did you have to make it better Judy? Why?”

Judy feels her eyes well up and her throat constrict painfully with every question Jen throws her way, and she waits until she has control over her breathing before addressing Jen.

“I am so sorry Jen. I should have done the right thing from the beginning. And I definitely should not have entered your life nor met your family, I know – I’m sorry – but I just… I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened like Steve. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I ruined a family, how I was responsible for a parent’s death, for a wife’s grief, for two _children’s_ grief, and I thought I had to make it better somehow. Steve did always say chaos follow me everywhere. I just… I thought that if I could help you heal then – I don’t know, I just didn’t want to pretend nothing had happened and not do anything about it.

Then, when I met you and the boys there were so many times I almost told you but as time went on it became harder and harder to do, and the more I fell in love with you three… I could never bring myself to do it. Every time I went to bed I promised myself I would come clean and every morning I woke up I would say to myself, ‘Today is the day.’ And then I would see you, any of you, and that resolve would slowly ebb away because you were giving me something I never had; a family. Something Steve and I could never achieve. Something I could never give him. And having lost _her_ so recently when we were finally so close… I wasn’t in a good headspace. I’m not saying that justifies anything I did- my miscarriages are not a justification, I know – but being with you guys, even knowing how fucked up it was, it made me feel whole in a way I had never felt before. And that made me feel sick to my stomach – knowing how fucked up it was for me to be doing what I was doing; to you and to the boys. I thought my self-hatred was worth it, how awful I felt. It was worth it if I got you to smile and the boys to laugh even if it was for a second. One second where you were not grieving.

I got caught up in all the mess and believe me, I wanted to tell you for so long but I could not bring myself to do it and that night you were blaming yourself for Ted’s death… I couldn’t let you do that knowing that I was responsible. I couldn’t let you keep thinking it was your fault when none of this has been your fault. You are an amazing mom, and an amazing wife and you don’t deserve the things that have happened to you nor the shitstorm that is me. You deserve the world Jen. And I am sorry. I truly am. Please believe that.”

Silence envelops the room for several minutes. Judy clasps and unclasps her hands and plays with her rings as Jen periodically drags her fingertip over the rim of the glass as Judy waits with bated breath for any kind of reaction from the woman.

“You made me care for you.” Jen says quietly. “You made me _need_ you. You know how fucked up that is? I don’t care for people Judy, you know this. I don’t need people. I don’t need to need people. I only care about my family and that is it. The rest of the world can fuck off for all I care. But you, somehow, against all odds, against my nature – you got me to care for you so fast, so unlike anyone before... Of course, it had to be too good to be true. You had to be too good to be true. And you hurt me – you really hurt me so fucking bad Judy – and I’m done with being hurt. I’m done being used and betrayed. I can’t have that in my life anymore. I’m done. I really need you to be honest; to be here because you want to be here – not because you feel guilty – but because you want to be here with us. I need you to promise me that you won’t hurt me – hurt us anymore, and that you are not here out of guilt or some sort of penance.”

Judy takes a breath and sets her wine glass down on the coffee table, collecting her thoughts and evening out her breathing. She turns her body towards Jen to face her, and Judy wants nothing more to hold her hands in her own as she makes her promise, but she refrains.

“There is nowhere else in this planet I rather be, in this life or in the next. I promise you that I am not here out of guilt, Jen. I’ll be here for you and the boys for as long as you’ll have me; for as long as you want in whichever way or form you think best. Anything you need from me, I’ll give. Anything. I mean it when I say I love you. I truly mean it Jen; you and the boys with all my heart.”

***

Every time Judy looks at the boys she can’t help thinking:

_I killed their dad. I killed their dad and now Jen knows, and I have burdened her with that knowledge._

Every time Henry smiles at her, every time he hugs her, she feels like dying because she doesn’t deserve any of his affections. She doesn’t deserve _them_. She wishes he would be more like Charlie was a few months back. She wishes Charlie had remained angry and hostile. She wishes she could tell the truth and still have them in her life. She wishes Jen-

She wishes things were different.

***

When Jen asks her to move-in, Judy thinks she has finally had a stroke, either her or Jen but someone must have definitely had a stroke. She hates this state of constant cognitive dissonance she finds herself in. Her emotions are a convoluted mess and she feels about to implode at any given moment of the day. She feels elated at the prospect of living with her family again, but she knows she shouldn’t. She feels horrendous for all the pain she’s caused them, and the anxiety and tension she feels can sometimes be crippling. She deals with it through spiritual guidance and fully giving herself to the boys and Jen to try to somehow make amends, but she knows she can never amend what she did.

Nevertheless, she moves in – contradictory feelings still afloat but her desire to be around them, her chosen family, wins out if only by a little.

She wishes things were different.

***

Against all odds, moving in actually improves her relationship with Jen. Jen stops keeping four feet between them, makes prolonged eye contact and things start to feel like they used to be. She helps Jen out with the boys whenever the other woman is unable to; goes to parent-teacher meetings when Jen can’t - and also because Jen hates all the kid’s teachers and the small talk they insist on making. She happily does the grocery shopping, often surprising Jen with a fully stocked fridge because the other woman has been working herself to the ground and barely has any time to breathe. Little by little Judy is succeeding with introducing vegetarian dishes to Charlie that the boy enjoys despite pretending not to, which she finds adorable because he makes the same face Jen makes when she is proven wrong. Henry is another story altogether- he is always delighted to try new things. She bonds greatly with him in the kitchen, when they are preparing dinner together while Charlie is upstairs locked in his room in all his teenage angst and while Jen is away at work.

She still doesn’t drive and her finances do take a bit of a toll when she is forced to take a cab or uber but on the upside, the retirement home did finally give her that raise and more, and she has managed to have her art displayed at other galleries, which when it sells contributes positively to her finances and she is able to contribute even more to the household.

***

When Henry introduces her as Jen’s girlfriend the day of his recital, Judy feels her heart stop, her breath hastily leaves her lungs, and there is a mixture of deathly silence and cacophonous noise in her head and she can’t formulate a single word to refute the statement.

She is not worthy of Jen in any way, let alone that way.

She is not.

_I killed her husband._

_I killed your dad Henry._

_It was me._

***

Two years and a half pass and things are as great as they can be; greater than she could ever hope they could be. Her feelings for Jen seem to grow exponentially with each day that goes by despite Judy thinking she could not love her more than she already does. Her guilt is still ever-present, but Jen has been a huge help in coming to terms with it and letting herself feel a part of their odd family.

She is happy, she loves the boys and they love her, and Jen… well, Jen is still Jen which on Judy’s book is still great. The four of them have a great routine and roles and things flow easily and, for the most part, without complications or drama.

In the mornings, she preps for lunch or dinner, gets the boys ready for school and makes breakfast while Jen goes out on a run or attends her dance class. When the woman comes back, Judy has timed it perfectly so that Jen can take a shower, get ready for the day and have breakfast with her and the boys. Together. As a family.

Judy loves the mornings.

She loves her family.

After work, sometimes she goes grocery shopping or shops for whatever the boys need for their school projects. Sometimes, she heads to Jen’s work with a caffeine booster for the blonde, checks the listings (which most of the times means they end up joking around about the owners and potential buyers) and then they head home together. Jen checks up on the kids, makes sure they are working on their homework and then lends a hand to Judy in making dinner or simply sits and chats with her from the counter while sipping on a glass of wine. They have dinner as a family and then watch a movie or tv show in the living room or play boardgames which almost always ends with the boys fighting with each other, but which is nonetheless enjoyable. Jen even bets sometimes on which of her kids will be the one leaving the table in a huff. It’s almost always Henry because Charlie manages to be exasperating in a way only teenagers can be to their younger siblings.

Sometimes it’s just Jen and her after the kids head of to bed, lounging and chatting while enjoying a few or many glasses of wine depending on how the day went.

Things are good. Really good.

Judy loves it with everything she’s got.

***

But…

She hates there’s a but.

Things with Jen are great. They truly are, but sometimes they are too great, so much so that Judy thinks she must be imagining it. She thinks she catches lingering glances from Jen, and sometimes when she kisses the woman’s cheek in greeting, she thinks she sees her blush. Sometimes Jen stutters when Judy pays her a compliment or makes a flirty comment, but Judy can’t be sure for certain Jen might be attracted to her because Jen recovers fantastically fast, so fast that Judy is sure she must have imagined it. She flirts with Jen on a nearly constant basis and Jen seems to flirt back a little bit, and when Jen seems to give as good as she gets Judy pulls back because she knows she doesn’t deserve Jen and she shouldn’t get to have her that way. She should not get to want her that way.

Nevertheless, it seems pointless to dwell on those thoughts because Jen seems clueless and unaware that Judy is actually flirting and not teasing; that while Judy is very touchy without actual conscious thought, a hand on another’s woman thigh (Jen’s hand, not hers) more than above the knee - a little bit further than midthigh - for the better part of a night is not really _friend_ behaviour. She chalks it up to Jen’s awkwardness when it comes to any type of relationships and her lack of experience of true friends that are not a snappy, sassy gay man.

Judy doesn’t really notice when her hand lands somewhere on Jen or caresses her and plays with her fingers. Her body takes over and she often finds herself surprised because she knows Jen is not very physical and frankly, her wandering hands or eyes have not asked for Jen’s permission so she keeps her hands to herself as much as is within her power. Turns out she has minimal control over her own body. At first, when they were in the first stages of mending their relationship, she kept her distance, redirected her gestures to herself; an extended hand reaching out for Jen would end up buried in Judy’s hair or twisting her other hand’s fingers, or she would fiddle with her bracelets and rings.

Once things truly got better, they seemingly shortened the distance on their own, moving within one another’s spheres gracefully and effortlessly. However, once Judy noticed just how deeply her feelings for Jen ran (not that she was ever unaware she had somehow fallen in love with her), she tried to rein in her touchy nature and attain a semblance of personal space. Rather pointless as no matter how hard she tries, they are always drawn to each other.

***

The first time she greets Jen with a kiss on the cheek, she thinks the other woman will either pass out or beat the living hell out of her. Judy is on the phone when Jen comes home from work. Unable to give Jen her undivided attention, she gestures “hold on,” towards Jen and still on the phone, approaches the woman, whispers a quick “hi,” plants a kiss on her cheek and carries on with her conversation. When she feels watched, she turns to find a stock-still, wide-eyed Jen, purse hanging limply from her hand, looking at her with the most undecipherable expression she has ever seen from the woman.

 _Crap,_ Judy thinks, hurriedly hanging up and turning to face Jen completely. Before she can open her mouth to apologize, Jen comes out of her stupor.

“Uh, h-hello.” Jen clears her throat, blushes, and starts backing out of the kitchen. “Uh, yeah, hello. I’m just, I’m just gonna drop this off upstairs.”

And then she’s gone, heels clacking away.

It’s one of Judy’s favorite moments.

From then on, she makes a promise to herself to sporadically greet Jen with kiss on the cheek.

***

On her 49th birthday Judy dies.

She is having dinner with Jen, the boys and Chris and she is overjoyed with the presents and the people around her. The last present is the size of an envelope, given to her by Henry as an after thought, wrapped simply and beautifully. She rips the wrapping paper carefully and insides she finds an unassuming envelope.

She is not counting on its contents.

She looks around the table and sees everyone holding their breath before she removes the piece of paper from the envelope.

If there was ever a precious piece of paper in the world, Judy holds it in her hands. It is the most precious piece of paper in the world.

On her 49th birthday, Judy officially becomes a mother. Adoptive mother of Charlie and Henry Harding, spouse of Jennifer Harding.

She cries likes she has never cried before, and she laughs and she sobs and she asks her family if it is real and no matter how many times they reassure her that it is, she still cannot believe it.

She is a mom.

She is a mom!

Everyday for the next two months she cradles the document carefully and stares at it for minutes, and everyday Jen kisses her cheek, taking it out of her hands gently and telling her, “you are gonna rub the ink off, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in years and this was mostly hand-written in class, continued on my cellphone on the ride home and then typed and copy-pasted into word, so my apologies.


End file.
